That Look In Your Eyes
by Sandshrew777
Summary: Ryan notices a special glint in Chad's eyes whenever they speak to each other, but he doesn't know what it means. Ryan/Chad friendship.


**Author's Note: As most of my pieces tend to do, this was going in one direction and then kind of evolved from there. It very much toes the line between Chad/Ryan friendship and Chad/Ryan more-than-friendship, but I think I've stayed my traditional course and kept it in the realm of purely friendship only. This is mostly scene and character sketch, although Ryan does undergo a bit of a mental change, so I guess I can legitimately label it a story without worry. Please read and review!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own High School Musical. If I did, this would be a scene in one of the movies.

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"GO, GO, GO, GOGOGO! WHOOOOOOOOOO!" Gabriella screams, and it's all Ryan can do to smile as his eardrums get shredded by her piercing cheers.

They sit side by side in the Wildcat stands, celebrating Troy's latest basket. To Ryan's left is Sharpay, screaming just as loudly for Zeke, who now bounds down the court on defense, his size making him a towering terror. To Gabriella's right, Kelsi claps and cheers more reservedly, but with the same passion, for Jason, who gets fouled, Kelsi says, far too often.

And Ryan?

Well, he's there to cheer on the Wildcats in general, too, but mostly, he's there for Chad.

_"You comin' to the game tonight, Evans?" he had asked in history class, grinning as he sat backwards in the desk in front of Ryan._

_Ryan made a broad show of examining his nails._

_"I dunno, I might have more important things to do..." he trailed off airily, faking a yawn._

_Chad's grin spread._

_"Like what?" he challenged._

_Ryan hid his own grin beneath another yawn, gesturing his hand in the air as he spoke._

_"Oh, I don't know...watching the new paint on the gazebo dry, trying to find the lost city of Atlantis, plotting to take over the world with an army of carrots...you know, the usual," Ryan rattled off, his grin now unabashedly taking over his visage._

_Chad blew a raspberry._

_"Whatever, dude. You're coming or else..." Chad trailed off, trying to think of a threat. Then enlightenment dawned and, quick as a cat, he snatched Ryan's bright yellow newsboy cap from his head. Ryan balked for a moment._

_"Or else you don't get this back!" Chad threatened, still grinning. Ryan lunged for the hat, but Chad was too fast, countering Ryan's arms with his own. They mock-wrestled for a few moments in the desks until Chad managed to grip both of Ryan's wrists in his hands._

_"Gotcha," he whispered, his grin wider than ever. Ryan struggled good-naturedly, but grinned back._

_Then, trapped there, Ryan noticed something weird about Chad's grin, and the amusement glittering in his eyes. He stopped struggling, trying to pinpoint what it was, but then, suddenly, he had no time to think on it more._

_The bell rang, class began, Chad relinquished his arms, and the detail slipped from his mind, to be replaced by dates and names._

And so Ryan ends up at the game, in between two insufferably loud girls that he loves to death, and without his yellow hat. (Of course, directly after history he had donned a simple white baseball cap to replace the yellow one. He always kept at least three back-ups in his locker, just in case.)

Chad steals the ball and zips down the court with it before passing it off to a suddenly open Troy. Ryan notices this and gives Chad a shout. He knows that it will be drowned amidst the crowd's noise, but some part of him hopes that Chad hears his voice, separated from the rest, cheering him on. Ryan thinks he would feel much the same way were Chad cheering and clapping for him after a performance.

Troy makes the basket just before the whistle sounds for halftime. The crowd gives one last cheer as the score is announced---East High is ahead by eleven---and then it dies, its constituents rummaging towards the concessions tables in the hallway.

"It's my turn for snacks!" Gabriella announces, getting to her feet. "Anyone want anything while I'm up?" she offers.

"No thanks," Ryan says quietly, shaking his head. Kelsi asks for a Pepsi. Sharpay wants a hot dog, and she stands up to join Gabriella, claiming that "nobody puts mustard on my hot dogs the right way---except me."

"Typical Sharpay," Kelsi jokes to Ryan, sliding closer as the two girls descend the bleachers. Ryan laughs.

"Yeah. But she's getting better," he admits.

Kelsi nods.

"She's still biting my head off at least twice a day, though," she counters. Ryan turns to look at her, concerned. She shrugs.

"But she's doing it with a smile, so I guess it's all good," she adds, and Ryan laughs again: short, quick, and mostly fake. He's amused, but not so much that he's surrendering to laughter. In fact, the only one who gets him to laugh---really laugh---is Chad. Especially his dirty jokes, which Ryan didn't really enjoy when he overheard them before. But when Chad told them, they took on a whole new life; Chad took on a whole new life. His eyes would light up, like they had earlier that day in history class.

So that was what that feeling was! It was...well...

"Chad made an awesome steal, there, at the end," Kelsi comments, and Ryan turns to grin at her again, trying to re-engage himself in their conversation.

"Yeah. And Jason's not getting fouled as much tonight. That's good," he adds.

She grunts.

"Yeah, but that last guy nearly got him in the balls with his elbow! That was SO intentional, I know it! I swear, if I ever see him in the mall or something..." she trails off, her eyes glinting. Ryan notices that it's an entirely different glint from the one Chad has. Chad's is more amusement with everything, more clownish, more happy.

And Kelsi's?

"I'll help you bury the body," Ryan jokes. Kelsi turns to him, snorts, and her angry face, glint and all, breaks. Ryan knows she can't be truly angry for long.

In fact, it makes him rather envious of her. Whenever he (in what he likes to call "the Dark Age" wherein he wanted to emulate Sharpay in every way) or Sharpay sniped at her, she took it with ease. Whenever a teacher gave her a poor score on an essay or she bombed a test, she'd just shrug and stuff it into her binder. It was like everything just rolled off of her, just like that.

But Ryan knows he's not like this. He doesn't forgive as easily as he could, or even should. He still hasn't really gotten comfortable with Troy, for example. Even though Troy apologized---and meant it, Ryan knows, he could tell---at Lava Springs for his horrible behavior, Ryan still holds a bit of a grudge against him. It's mostly because he can't fully forgive someone who would think, even for a moment, that he would go after said someone's girlfriend.

Gabriella was off-limits. Ryan knew that, knows that, and will always know that. Even when Troy and Gabriella are no more, she is off-limits; she's reserved for him, and he for her, and everybody (except Sharpay) seems to understand that. It's just how things are.

But there is something else to the grudge, something deeper, something that Ryan can't quite identify. There's something about Troy that irks him. Even now, watching Troy walk out of the locker room with Chad, laughing and talking with him, he feels it. It's like when Taylor and Chad are sitting together at lunch. Like when Chad talks about something funny Zeke said at practice the other day. Like when Taylor and Chad are kissing at movie night. Like when Chad catches a ride home with Troy and not him, and never even asks to.

And then, the comical light bulb flicks on, and at last Ryan understands.

"One Pepsi," Gabriella announces, reaching across Ryan to hand the drink to Kelsi.

"Thanks, Gab," Kelsi shoots back and slides back to her spot. Gabriella and Sharpay take their seats just as the game restarts.

Ryan's eyes are on the court, his cheers are timed with the others', his grin is set firmly in place, but his mind is elsewhere.

He's not forgiven Troy because he's jealous. He's jealous of all the time Troy gets to spend with Chad. Time he wishes he could have with him, but can't, because he's spending it with Troy. Or with Taylor; he's just as jealous of her as he is of Troy, he realizes.

They monopolize nearly all of Chad's time. How is he supposed to get in a second edgewise? He wants to spend time with him, too! Playing pickup games of baseball when the weather's nice, comparing chemistry lab data, or even just hanging out at Gab's house during movie nights---all things he wants to do more and more often with Chad. But there's no time.

There's no time for anything, between practices for the musicale and homework and shopping excursions with Sharpay. But he would make time, if he knew Chad was free. But he never was.

As Chad sinks a three-pointer---nothing but net---Ryan wonders why he's having such a hard time with this. Taylor and Troy are nice people, some of the nicest and most talented he's met. Taylor's good in every subject, outshone only by Gabriella in the natural sciences and in math. Troy coasts through his classes easily and can play any sport he tries with ease. They're both wonderful people. They don't deserve Ryan's ire, but he directs it at them anyway.

No, there's something deeper here, Ryan thinks. So he does what he always does when he feels like this: he visualizes his sanctuary, where he goes when he meditates to gain and retain his focus.

The usual stage appears in front of him, with its hardwood polished floors that seem to go on forever. There is no audience; it is just him and the stage.

Like usual, things begin to appear as he sinks deeper into his meditation: a boombox with his favorite dance songs ready to play; walls with bright blue wallpaper covered in images of ducks splashing about merrily; a soft, strong, deep purple yoga mat in the center of the stage.

He feels the sanctuary shift as he mentally positions himself on the yoga mat. Once the world is re-righted, he takes a deep breath in. Then he lets it out. Then he breathes in again. And out. In. Out.

In.

Chad is my friend.

Out.

I want to spend time with him.

In.

Chad is Troy's friend.

Out.

Chad wants to spend time with him.

In.

I want to be Troy's friend.

Out.

But I don't want to spend time with him.

In.

Why don't I want to spend time with him?

Out.

Because he reminds me of what I never had.

In.

I had friends before Chad.

Out.

But they were never guys.

In.

No guy ever wanted to get close to me.

Out.

All afraid I would hit on them.

In.

Even though I'm not gay.

Out.

But I'm not straight, either.

In.

I just don't want a girl right now.

Out.

But I will someday.

In.

Why can't they see that?

Out.

Because they don't want to.

In.

But Chad does.

Out.

Somehow.

In.

And Troy and Taylor and Zeke and Jason all will too.

Out.

Somehow.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANT!" the buzzer shrieks.

Ryan's sanctuary vanishes in seconds and he quickly jumps to his feet with the rest of the Wildcats in the stands, screaming his approval.

The Wildcats on the court shake hands with the losers, then break into cheers of their own with their team, and with Coach Bolton. As they head for the locker rooms and the crowd's noise begins to slowly dissipate, Chad looks up into the stands. He's looking for something, Ryan realizes.

And when Chad's eyes lock onto his, Ryan knows he was looking for someone.

Looking for him.

The glint is back in Chad's eyes as he grins, waving at Ryan. Ryan waves back, grinning himself.

He knows what the glint means now:

Chad is looking for someone who always has his back, no matter what. Someone who understands him as he is, behind all of the carefully constructed walls, masks, and layers. Someone who always has time for him, even when his own mother does not.

Looking for him.

Looking for his friend.

And Ryan will be damned if Chad ever looks at him without that glint in his eyes.

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**Author's Note: Like what you've read? Dislike it? Think it could be better? Review!**


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